


Mixed Signals

by CAERUS



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:48:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CAERUS/pseuds/CAERUS
Summary: Robin’s realization of her feelings for Strike comes after the infamous hug at her wedding. What happens if she actually acknowledges them and doesn’t ignore them.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	1. The Maldives

**Author's Note:**

> I Do Not Own Cormoran Strike or his Agency. If I did there would have been no need for Lorelei.

“We cannot decide to love. We cannot compel anyone to love us. There's no secret recipe, only love itself. And we are at its mercy; there's nothing we can do.” – Nina George

Chapter 1

It was official... the Honeymoon was over, Robin thought with sarcasm. She glanced across the luxurious room at her twat of a husband. He was already sleeping, sprawled out in the room’s king sized bed. “I paid for it, I’m sleeping in it,” he had said. “I believe the couch pulls out.”

“Fine by me,” Robin had spat back.

They had arrived in the Maldives as the sun was setting, which was a fitting analogy for this whole relationship, Robin thought. They had barely talked once during the 10 freakin hours long flight. She rolled her eyes remembering the cramped seats and awkward silence ... Who wants to fly 10 hours just to lie on a beach? What a stupid waste of time. Of course Matthew would have picked the most inconvenient, pretentious, boring place on Earth to go for their Honeymoon. Why did she even agree to come on this ridiculous trip? She should be back in London finding a new place to live and helping Strike rebuild their agency. What was she thinking agreeing to this? The truth was, she hadn’t been thinking, she had just been desperate to escape.

In the aftermath of their disastrous reception, Matthew had suggested going on the Honeymoon as a way to escape their families and what was sure to be press interest back in London. Robin, still reeling from Strike’s arrival, Matthew’s betrayal, and the overwhelming feeling she had experienced while wrapped in Strike’s arms, had agreed. The Honeymoon would be a facade, a way to have enough privacy to figure out how to end this sham of a marriage without outside distractions. She knew now though, that she had made a mistake. It wouldn’t take two weeks to say the things she needed to say. She’d said everything she’d had to say in the first two minutes. Now she was stuck here, in “paradise,” which to her felt like the ninth circle of hell. The universe had done nothing but send her sign after sign that she shouldn’t have come. 

First, it had taken almost two hours to clear airport security in London. When they had reached the front of their line, they had been held up when the man in front of them had trouble clearing the metal detector. Robin didn’t bother looking at Matthew when the man had lifted a pant cuff to reveal an artificial leg. She didn’t need to see him to know what the expression on his face would be.... arsehole.

Then, there was the ridiculously long flight, in which her seat would not recline and she was stuck in a middle seat. Her only option for sleep would have been on Matthew’s shoulder and she’d rather chew broken glass than have to touch him right now. Once their flight had touched down, they’d gone to get their luggage, but somehow the airline had left Robin’s bag in London... wish I were with it, she thought. They had apologized profusely and promised they would add it to the next flight. She would have it within 48 hours, but for now, she only had the clothes that were in her carry-on. 

Then the shuttle to the resort had been twenty minutes late and not even the picturesque surroundings could break Robin out of her dark mood. The tension between the two of them, as they rode to the resort, was practically solid.

As soon as they were checked in and alone in their private cabana, the detente ended and the shouting had begun.

Now she was alone on the balcony and her “husband” was asleep in a bed she had no intention of using.... EVER.

I cannot believe that Matthew thinks we can get past this and stay married, Robin thought. How could he think I would even consider it? I never would have come here with him, if I’d thought for a moment he wanted to continue the marriage. She went back to beginning of their latest and greatest row, remembering.

Matthew had laid down the opening punch. “Are you really planning to just walk out on this marriage before you even try? I’m not sure why I’m surprised. You’ve quit everything else you’ve ever done, or were fired,” he finished nastily.

“You think taking that stance would tempt me to stay do you?” Robin responded hotly.

“I think you’re overreacting completely to the phone thing. I was only trying to protect you and you’re turning it into some Machiavellian plot.”

“No Matthew, you weren’t trying to protect me, because if you were, you’d know how much my job means to me and would do whatever you could to make me happy. THAT’S what people in love do for each other.”

And so it went. It ended when Robin was in tears and said, “there’s no point in trying to continue this. I don’t love you. I cannot keep trying to make you happy while I am miserable. This was a mistake. We should have just stayed broken up and never got married in the first place.”

Matthew had looked defiant. “I’m done talking about this tonight. I’m going to bed.”

That was when he laid down the bed policy, which Robin was totally fine with. Once Matthew was asleep, Robin had escaped the room to the balcony for a moment of peace. There she had found a hammock with a view of the ocean. She could smell the salty air and hear the waves as they washed up on the shore. I still think this is a bloody stupid place to go, she thought to herself, but admitted that this bit was quite soothing. It didn’t take long for the waves to lull her to sleep in the hammock, where she dreamed of dingy offices that smelled of cigarette smoke. 

A week had passed and Robin and Matthew were basically having separate vacations now. They talked sporadically, but Matthew had seemed to finally accept that Robin was serious about ending the marriage. It had come to a head on the second day when Matthew had said he would never agree to a divorce and Robin had responded that she was going to pursue an annulment. 

“If you don’t agree to the annulment, I’ll initiate divorce proceedings anyways,” she had said. “It might take longer, but you can’t just refuse, it will happen eventually regardless. Think of it this way. If we get a divorce you might end up having to pay me maintenance, since you know, my job pays shite. An annulment gets you off free and clear financially.”

Always appeal to Matthew’s pocketbook, Robin thought smugly. This, it seemed, had finally gotten through to him. He threw up a few more token protests, but he had agreed to allow the annulment. 

She had barely seen him since then. He spent his days swimming and snorkeling and his evenings at the hotel bar telling any pretty girl in sight his sob story about the “evil woman who had tricked him into marriage, but had broken it off as soon as they arrived.” Robin wished him luck.

She had spent the week taking naps in her beloved hammock and taking long walks on the beach. The last few months HAD been quite stressful and she was enjoying the break more than she had initially thought she would. Since the day she had opened that package containing poor Kelsey’s leg, Robin felt like she had been living a nightmare. She had been stalked, attacked, fired, and now was about to be single again. It was a lot to process and this time alone had given her time to think, reflect, and plan.

Mostly though, she had spent a significant amount of time thinking about her feelings for Strike. She could still picture the way he looked at her, in the church, after he had knocked over those flowers and the sheepish way he had offered her job back. Then, there was way he couldn't look away from her during dinner. Normally food would consume his attention, but he was looking at HER like she was the feast at the end of a famine. She couldn’t forget the look in his eyes during her first dance, when he had looked lost and sad, and then turned and left as if he couldn't bear to watch. Most of all, she shivered just thinking about it, she couldn’t stop remembering their hug and how she had never wanted to leave his arms. 

She loved him or at least thought she did. Did she even know what love was? She had thought for so long that she was in love with Matthew, but it had broken so easily. How do you trust your feelings on something so huge?

If I could just hear his voice, I’d know, was all she could think.

Then it had all gone wrong...

She had called him from the hotel lobby and his phone had been answered by some random girl. From her giggles and the drunken sounding Strike in the background, it was clear what they were up to. Robin had slammed down the phone and stood there staring at it for what felt like hours. Her stomach heaved and she felt like she would be violently ill. She had stumbled back to her cabana, which was mercifully Matthew-free when she arrived.

Once in her hammock she had broken down. She had never felt such wrenching grief. She was utterly heartbroken. Sure she felt many other emotions too... shame, embarrassment, jealousy, and anger. Mostly though, she just felt devastating loss. Like she’d had something wonderful and precious, but as soon as she acknowledged it, it was taken from her, never to return. 

So... that answered that. She did love him and wasn’t that just perfect. She was in love with Cormoran Blue Strike and he must never know.

Clearly she had imagined the look of longing on his face during her reception. Had imagined the way his hands had balled into fists on her wedding dress, like he was preparing to drag her off with him. While she had been thinking “ask me to come with you,” he had been bidding her a fond farewell and congratulations on your marriage.

Well, she was in love with him, so clearly she had been seeing what she “wanted” to see. I’m so stupid, she thought. Why would he want to be with me? Every woman I’ve ever known him to date has been beautiful and glamorous. While Robin considered herself to be pretty, she knew she wasn’t in the same league as Charlotte Campbell-Ross. 

Can I do it? Can I return to work and see him everyday without letting on how I feel, she thought. What choice did she have? She and Matthew were through. Even if she wasn’t in love with another man, she couldn’t stay with Matthew. Not after everything. She would be single again shortly after returning to England. She wouldn’t be able to support herself in London alone without a job and going back to Masham was not an option if she wanted to keep her sanity intact. She still wanted to be a detective and the best way to do that was to work for Strike. She couldn’t lose him AND her job. So yes, she was going to return to work. She loved her job too much to give it up. The challenge would be preventing him from EVER discovering how she felt. 

It would be mortifying and awkward. It might cause him to not want me around anymore, she decided. He’s a detective, so I’ll have to be convincing. I’ll keep wearing my rings and he’ll never have to know Matthew and I split up. She wasn’t sure she could make it through any explanation of their separation right now, that wouldn’t involve exposing her feelings. She felt bad about lying and knew she wouldn’t be able to lie forever. Just for a little while until her loss wasn’t so acute, then she could tell him casually one day that she and Matt had split up without ever being specific on WHEN. Keeping her feelings from him though, well that would be like stepping into character permanently. Similar to how she embodied Venetia, she would embody Robin, the version of herself that was definitely NOT in love with Cormoran Strike.


	2. Back to Work

“Avoidance has never been a great tactic in solving any problem. For most situations in life, not addressing what's going on only makes matters worse.” - Luvvie Ajayi

Chapter 2

Two months, it had been two bloody months, Robin thought, since she had returned from the Maldives and obtained an annulment. Two months of knowing she was in love with her infuriating partner and tip-toeing a line between wanting to see him and wanting to avoid him.

“Don’t know what I was even worried about”... Robin muttered to herself as she opened the door to the Denmark Street office, which was once again completely empty. She had come to the office this afternoon to catch up on some overdue paperwork and told herself it was NOT because she was hoping to actually see Strike. She had been tailing Two-Times latest girlfriend for the past 3 days and hadn’t made it in to the office at all that week.

She had seen Strike precisely 7 times in the 8 weeks that had passed since she had come back to work. If she didn’t know any better she would think he was purposefully avoiding her. They did talk on the phone briefly almost everyday. Short, inconsequential calls keeping each other updated about the cases they were working on. Never anything else. That her heart skipped a beat whenever her mobile rang, she tried to ignore. In person sightings were extraordinarily rare and today was apparently not to be #8. She sighed and went to the little kitchen area to make a cup of tea. After she had settled at her computer, she tried to work, but her mind kept drifting to her partner.

She thought back to the first time she had seen him after she returned. She had opened the door to the office almost euphoric upon seeing the familiar space that she had thought lost to her forever. She was nervous about seeing Strike, but she had also missed him so damn much. Her pretend Robin facade was all prepared, but real Robin’s feelings threatened to overwhelm.

She had entered Strike’s office and before she as so much said hello, he had looked down at the rings on her hand and said, “Sticking with it then, are you?” in an accusatory tone.

Robin, taken aback by his manner, drew fake Robin out and had simply replied, “We’ve come to an understanding. He won’t interfere with my work again.”

There... she thought, perfectly true. We understand that I think he’s a twat and he won’t interfere because I’m not his wife anymore.

Their meeting had been terse. He had been grumpy and short with her. At one point Robin had asked if he was sure he wanted her to come back because he seemed to still be pissed off at her. He had brushed her off with some nonsense about being knackered and how he was “very glad” to have her back. 

Bollocks, Robin had thought. She wasn’t sure what he was mad about. Surely it couldn’t be because she was “still married” to Matthew. What business of his was it? He was the one off fucking some slag while she was left dreaming of him every night. She briefly considered that maybe he DID have feelings for her, and was angry because he thought she’d gone away for a real Honeymoon and was staying with Matthew. However, Robin couldn't reconcile that thought with the sound of the giggling girl on the phone barely a week later. She knew it would take a hell of a lot longer for her to move on from him. No, it couldn’t be that. 

Robin had concluded that there must be something going on in his personal life and tried not to think that he was dating someone currently. She knew he’d never talk about. Strike only shared his feelings when he was drunk and it wasn’t even 9am yet. She decided facade Robin wouldn’t be bothered by Strike’s surliness and they wrapped up their meeting 10 minutes later, with Robin in possession of a brand-new contract naming her a partner in the agency.

That was 8 weeks ago, she thought. She’d only seen him 6 times since then and those had been all in passing, with one of them arriving to the office, just as the other was leaving to go on surveillance. Since Strike mostly set the rota, it was hard not to take it as deliberate.

Except for her disastrous “relationship” with Strike, the rest of her life had actually come together quite well. After returning from the Maldives, she was able to obtain an annulment and she had returned with Matthew to Masham briefly, to break the news to their families. It had not been pleasant, but Robin’s parents had been more understanding than she could have hoped for. They had even still given her the 10,000 pounds they had saved to help her and Matthew put a deposit on a new flat. This was a relief because she knew she’d be getting nothing from Matthew except her own belongings out of the flat. When she returned to London, Robin had stayed at Vanessa Ekwensi’s flat for a week, looking for a suitable place to live. It was through Vanessa, that Robin had met Daniel, who was now her flat mate. 

Daniel was in his early 30’s, gay, and ran a very successful salon that catered to the wealthy. His flat` had been robbed 2 months prior by a former boyfriend and that was how he met Vanessa. She had been the one assigned to the case. He could probably afford to live alone, but said he couldn’t stand the quiet. His treacherous former lover had put him off serious relationships for now, so he was happy to take in a young female detective just getting out of her own long term relationship. They got along famously. 

Daniel was fun, energetic, and vastly entertaining. He could make Robin laugh endlessly over his impressions of the snobby society ladies that came into his salon. 

He was very fit... “completely obsessed with my gym, dear,”... had excellent taste in clothes.... “These women wouldn’t come near me if my clothes didn’t cost at least as much as their handbags”.... and could cook like a dream... “I used to date the head chef at Le Gavroche, you know”....

Robin considered herself quite lucky to have Daniel for a flatmate. He was neat, respected her space, and was totally fine with her unpredictable work schedule. He actually found what Robin did fascinating and always expected her to tell him all the “sordid details” of whatever Robin found herself doing that day. It was a nice change from Matthew, who expected her to do all the housework and never asked about her day.

Sighing, Robin realized she had been sat at her desk for nearly an hour and had accomplished basically nothing. She went into Strike’s office and sat in his chair. She’d been doing that a lot lately when she was in the office alone. It was completely pathetic, but the chair smelled like him. She liked to snuggle into it, surrounded by his smell and pretend it was Strike she was snuggled up to. It was embarrassing and certainly wasn’t helping her move past him, but it took the edge off her misery so she could make it through a few more days. She sighed. Since she was out on daytime surveillance tomorrow as well, she wouldn’t have a good excuse to show up at the office until next Monday. It was pointless to keep trying to work here tonight. It was too intertwined with her feelings for Strike. She would take her laptop home tomorrow and catch up her files over the weekend. That would also give her an excuse to come into the office again tomorrow and have another shot at sighting number 8.

With that decided she left Strike’s office, turned off her computer, grabbed her purse and headed off towards home.


	3. Dinner with Daniel

There’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve just met.” — Jim Henson

Chapter 3

“Honey, I’m home,” Robin called out as she entered her flat.

Daniel poked his head out of the kitchen.

“Perfect timing my dear. You MUST come try this mushroom risotto I just made. It’s sinful.” 

Robin’s stomach growled as if on cue. “Oh thank god. Two Times new girl works the day shift at this sleazy bar near absolutely nothing. I swear if I have to stay on her much longer, I might have to start ordering takeaway delivered to my car. The snacks I bring are not cutting it anymore.”

Robin poured herself a glass of wine and sat down to eat. Daniel served her a plate and then sat down across from her. 

The talked for awhile about the clients Daniel had seen that day and then right as she was nearly done eating, Daniel turned to conversation onto Robin.

“So spill... did you get number eight?”

Robin had only recently felt comfortable enough to share her dilemma involving her work partner. It was late on a Saturday night and they had been on their second bottle of wine. Daniel had just finished sharing the whole story on Timothy, the thieving ex and Robin had felt the need to reciprocate a painful memory. She had intended to just tell the story of her annulment, but the wine had lowered her defenses and the whole thing just came spilling out. It was nice though to be able to talk to an entirely objective, neutral third party.

“Nope, I spent a depressing hour staring into space and then left without seeing him.... AGAIN. I am going to stop by the office again tomorrow after surveillance to pick up my laptop. I have a TON of paperwork to catch up on this weekend.”

“Uggg, boring! Girl we need to get you a social life. Tomorrow’s Friday, you’re coming out with me. We’ll go drinking and dancing. No pressure for a fix up, I promise. Just total stress relief fun.”

Robin was doubtful. When was the last time she had gone dancing? Uni maybe? Matthew had not been one for dancing and Robin would never have done something like that alone. However, it would be nice to get out and do something other than work, sleep, and pine over Strike. 

Daniel had removed both of their empty plates and had started doing the dishes. He really was such a nice person, she thought and didn’t want to disappoint him.

“Sure, why not... could be fun. I am not looking to hook up with anyone though so don’t even think about it,” she said with a grin.

He looked caught out. “Alright fine... I still think most of your problems would be solved by a good shag though. Forget about your partner and just have some fun while you’re still young. From everything you’ve told me, you never really experienced that. Now’s the time babe.”

“It’s only been two months though. Before that I was in a relationship with the same man for ten years and now I’m in love with someone who previously sacked me and is now avoiding me. I can’t help it. Until I don’t feel this way, I can’t think about dating anyone else,” she said.

“Who said anything about dating?” Daniel said with a wink.

Robin burst out laughing. “I support your sexual freedom, and maybe if I wasn’t in love I would feel the same, but for now, I’m good alone.”

Daniel sighed. “You’re such a good girl Robin. I don’t know many people like you. I think I might be a little bit jealous.”

“Hey just because we aren’t looking for me tomorrow night doesn’t mean we can’t look for you.”

He had finished the dishes and was drying his hands now. “Nope tomorrow is all about you. Straight bar all the way. I know this adorable little retro place that will be perfect. I’ll text you the address and will meet you there at 9. Wear the tight blue number I’ve seen in your closet,” he said as he left the room to go to bed.

Robin startled. “When were you in my closet?” she called after him with a grin.

The only thing she heard was a loud answering laugh and then a door close.

Robin, now full and sleepy herself, finished her wine and rinsed out the glass. She was nervous about going out drinking and dancing with Daniel, but he was right. She was still young, she was single, and maybe it was time to get out there and see what London had to offer. It’s not like Strike was losing any sleep over her...


	4. Strike’s Solution

“Forgive my indifference; I'd rather be distant than devastated.” ― Ahmed Mostafa

Chapter 4

Strike arrived back to his flat Friday morning in a bad mood. He had just wrapped up another full night’s surveillance on Dropout, who was a 21 year old kid who had recently dropped out of University and moved in with his girlfriend. He had been hired by the boy’s parents to find out what he was doing for work and to “prove” he was using drugs. He felt like he had followed him long enough to assure the parents their assumptions were not true. Dropout was working nights loading trucks at a warehouse and worked part time during the day as a barista. The girlfriend looked to be pregnant, so he was fairly certain the boy had dropped out to be able to support a growing family. He was doing nothing dodgy as far as Strike had seen and he had never seen any evidence of drug abuse. 

He undressed and removed his prothesis so he could get some sleep. After he was comfortable, he started reviewing everything he’d observed during the weeks following Dropout. He couldn’t help but feel sorry for the boy. He had obviously felt like dropping out and working two jobs was his only option, even though his parents were obviously wealthy enough to hire a private investigator. Why can’t people just TALK to each other? But the irony involved in that thought hit him hard and his mood got darker still. Well nothing new about that, he thought. I’ve been in a bad mood for months now. It wasn’t hard to trace the reason.... he was in love with his married work partner. 

He groaned and pulled the pillow out from under his head so he could press it over his face. This situation could not continue. He had to find someway to get himself out of the shadow cast by the rings on Robin’s finger. 

He remembered their cursed hug on the stairs as he was leaving her reception. Cursed because he had realized at that precise moment he loved another man’s wife. He had needed so desperately in that moment, to believe that his feelings were reciprocated, he had given things meaning that apparently were not real. She had not been desperately clinging to him trying to keep him from leaving. He must have imagined the joy in her eyes when he had shown up during the ceremony, when she had said “I do,” while staring directly at him. It was wishful thinking that she had sent him pleading looks during dinner, looks that to him, had screamed “save me.” He had been so sure after he’d left her that she would call any day and tell him that the marriage was annulled and she was on her way back to London. A week had passed and in desperation to know what was happening and to hear her voice, he had phoned her parent’s house.

Then it had all gone wrong.

Robin’s father had answered and told him that she was on her Honeymoon. Strike had barely heard another word. Nothing registered other than the loud ringing in his ears and the way it was suddenly hard to breathe. The next 24 hours were a blur. He remembered that he had met up with Wardle and his wife April, he remembered their friend Coco that they had brought along, and he remembered drinking.... a lot. The next thing he remembered was waking in bed with a naked Coco, hungover with a need to vomit that he suspected had little to do with his alcohol consumption. He felt so guilty and the fact that he felt guilty while Robin was probably naked at that very moment on a beach with her husband, made him angry. Hence the bad mood, that had been his constant companion since. 

He had been avoiding drinking so heavily since that night. He didn’t want to put himself back into the state that had led to his Coco mistake. However, when he was completely sober, everything hurt and all he wanted was alcohol to numb things or at least take the edge off. So he was living in a near perpetual buzz. When he sobered up enough to do his job, he was able to focus a bit on that, so he decided he needed more work. With the publicity generated by his capture of the Shacklewell Ripper, his agency had more work than they could handle. He was planning to start hiring sub-contractors, but hadn’t gotten around to it yet. He was quite recognizable now after all the press coverage, so he mostly took work at night where he could follow his targets from the shadows. He was working most evenings and nights now, which helped cut down on his alcohol consumption and had the added bonus of being the exact opposite of Robin’s schedule. He was avoiding her, he could admit it. He’d only seen her 7 times since the wedding and the last time had been nearly two weeks ago. 

It was getting harder to be around her, he admitted, as he covered himself with a blanket. He had hoped it would get easier as the time passed. He couldn’t keep working himself to death just to avoid her and he couldn’t keep using alcohol to numb things when he wasn’t working. His stump was inflamed from over-use and his head pounded near constantly. Plus, and he really couldn’t help it, he missed her. I have got to pull myself out of this, he thought. Ok, you love her and she does not love you. You can still be friends with her though. It can go back to how things were before the Shacklewell Ripper case. Avoiding her is just making you even more miserable, he reasoned with himself. What I really need is a girlfriend, he thought. Someone to offer a pleasant escape from his fraught “relationship” with Robin and from the demands of the job. Someone to offer as physical proof that you aren’t pathetic and alone pining over someone else’s wife. 

Strike growled audibly. Every time he even thought the word wife, it pissed him off. How does an egotistical twat like Matthew end up married to someone like Robin? Life really wasn’t fair.

Right, so a girlfriend, he cringed to himself. It would need to be someone who isn't looking for something serious. I don’t want to lead someone on or hurt them. He remembered the woman he had met at Wardle’s birthday party last week. Lorelei, he believed her name was. She had just ended a long-term relationship, so it is doubtful she’d be looking for anything serious right now. She gave me her number, but I never called her. I’ll ring her now and invite her to dinner tonight. 

Suddenly resolved, Strike pulled out his mobile and found her contact info. Feeling slightly ill, he dialed.

“Hello?” 

“Lorelei?

“Yes, who is this?”

“Right, yes well, this is Cormoran Strike, we met last week at Eric and April’s place? 

“Oh right, yes. I was beginning to think you weren’t interested,” she said coyly.

“Sorry, work’s been busy this week,” which was true he thought, but not why he hadn’t called before now.

“Anyways,” he continued. “I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner with me this evening?”

“Yes, I’d love to, she promptly replied, but then sounded hesitant. If you don’t mind us making a quick detour around 10. See I promised one of my friends I’d come meet her for a drink tonight, but it won’t be long and you’d be welcome to come with me.”

“Yeah, that would be fine. Dinner at 8 okay?”

“Sounds perfect. Where?”

“You pick and text me where you want to go. We should probably eat near the place you are meeting your friend so we aren’t late.”

“You’re so sweet,” she purred into the phone. “It’s this cute little retro club I know. I’ll check to see what’s near there and let you know. See you at eight.”

“Yeah, see you at eight.”

He ended the call. He felt worse now than he had 10 minutes ago, but he knew this was the only way to move forward. He needed a layer of protection so he could resume interactions with Robin. He missed her too damn much and was sick and tired of avoiding her.

Lorelei might be just what he needed to regain his equilibrium.


	5. Who is That?

“I’ve been fighting to be who I am all my life. What’s the point of being who I am, if I can’t have the person who was worth all the fighting for?” ― Stephanie Lennox

Chapter 5

The lights in the club seemed to be syncing to the pulse in Strike’s head. Dinner with Lorelei had been pleasant enough, but they had arrived at Lorelei’s “cute little retro club” fifteen minutes ago and he had been ready to leave about fourteen minutes ago. They had sat together at little table near the bar for a few minutes, but Lorelei’s friend had persuaded her to “just one dance” while she was there and that had been 2 songs ago. He was a little irritated to be abandoned, but at least he had a Doom Bar, was able to sit, and she hadn’t tried to pressure him to come with her. 

His eyes searched her out on the dance floor. Lorelei was really quite lovely and by the way she kept looking at him and swinging her hips, he could probably expect an invitation back to hers tonight. He needed to decide what his answer would be before she asked.

As he was pondering whether he could soberly climb into bed with another woman, his eyes roamed the dance floor. His attention was drawn to the curvy backside of a woman dressed in a figure hugging blue dress. Aside from the fact that her arse was perfection, it was the shade of her hair color that had drawn his notice, it was precisely the same shade as Robin’s.

He continued watching the back of the woman as she danced. She was mesmerizing and the way she twisted and rotated her hips was causing a tightening in his pants that he was trying to ignore. The bloke she was dancing with was quite good looking and probably had two legs. He laughed bitterly, which was the type of man who ended up with girls who looked like Robin. He watched as the woman threw her head back in laughter and then wrapped her arms around the bloke in a tight hug. They stayed like that for a moment and then started heading towards a table on the opposite side of the club holding hands as they went.

He still hadn’t seen her face and he wanted to know if the rest of her was as beautiful as the backside promised. His eyes followed them as they left the dance floor. When they arrived at their table the bloke pulled out the chair for his date. As she sat down, Strike could see her face clearly for the first time and he swore his heartbeat actually stopped.

What... The... Actual.... Fuck....

She didn’t just remind him of Robin. It fucking WAS Robin. The woman he had been staring at and the owner of the arse he knew would be staring in all his future dreams, was his married fucking work partner. Rage, disgust, and searing jealousy consumed him. He could feel his pulse racing and stomach churning.

How could she do this? She was cheating on him.... not you, you stupid fuck, he thought. She was cheating on Matthew? Who was this guy? 

It was one thing to stand by and watch Robin be with a man who had been her one and only boyfriend since sixth form. It was quite another to have to sit here and watch her all over some other random guy, while he was desperately in love with her. 

He remembered all the moments from her wedding that had felt so meaningful to him, but had meant nothing to her. He glared across the club and saw her drinking wine and laughing delightedly at something HE must have said to her.

Fuck this....

He left the club without saying goodbye to Lorelei.

When he tried to remember later, Strike would admit he had no memory of traveling back to the office from that wretched “cute little retro club.” One minute he was about to throw up and the next, he was in his office with his face buried in his hands. 

All he could see was Robin...

Robin the very first moment he met her, coolly playing down the fact that he’d nearly just killed her. 

Robin, in that fucking green dress that he never got the chance to rip off her. 

Robin confidently saving their lives in the Land Rover. 

Robin, tearfully begging to be given a chance to train as a detective.

Robin, her face glowing with excitement whenever she discovered something she couldn't wait to share with him. 

Robin, dressed up as Venetia, adopting a different persona like a seasoned actress. 

A million images of her swirled and attacked his brain with the pain of sharp knives. Most of all, he now saw Robin dressed in that skin-fucking-tight blue dress that showed absolutely every perfect curve, with her arms wrapped around a man who was not Matthew. A man who was also not him. He started to breathe heavily, but cursed because he swore he could actually smell her perfume on his chair.

If he’d thought he’d known pain when Robin’s dad had curtly informed him that she was on her Honeymoon, he now knew that he was vastly mistaken. Never had any moment in his life wrecked him like this. Not his mother’s death, his father’s dismissal, his final break with Charlotte, or even waking up in a hospital missing half his leg, had caused the overwhelming feeling of betrayal and loss he now felt. 

Fuck! He screamed into the stillness of the office. He thought he was starting to hyperventilate. He pounded his fist on top of the desk. Fuck... Fuck... Fuck.... How had he let this happen? He wasn’t supposed to fall in love again after Charlotte and this was fucking why. No good EVER came of it. He grabbed the closest object he could reach and hurled it at the door. The sound of the glass shattering was mildly soothing. It mimicked the sound he imagined his heart was making.

How would he be able to move past this? How could he ever regain any sort of relationship with Robin. He grabbed the whiskey from the bottom drawer in his desk and decided to just forget for tonight and leave the repercussions for tomorrow.


	6. The Truth

“Our wounds are often the openings into the best and most beautiful part of us.” ― David Richo

Chapter 6

Robin felt happier than she had done in ages as she exited the cab on Denmark Street. She had danced and drank and laughed with Daniel until she felt like a whole new person. She didn’t begrudge the fact that Daniel had eventually left the club with a man who’d been working as a bartender. He had been apprehensive when he’d asked her if that was okay. She’d laughed and said that she’d told him last night that they could look for a hook-up for him, after all and gave him a hug. Robin certainly was not ready to put aside her feelings for Strike. She’d had such a perfect evening that she was even hopeful her luck would continue and she’d catch Strike still in the office when she arrived. It was late and she was a little tipsy, but she absolutely had to finish her backlog of work this weekend and for that she needed her laptop at the office. If she happened to run into Strike while wearing this get-up, well so much the better. It would be interesting to gauge his reaction to seeing her in something so revealing. 

She was just inserting her key into the lock of the office door when she heard a crash inside and the sound of glass breaking and panicked. Was Strike in there? Was he in trouble? What if it wasn’t Strike? She reached into her purse and grabbed her rape alarm. If Strike was possibly in danger, she wasn’t going to wait. 

When she opened the door, the office was still and quiet. The door to Strike’s office was closed, but the glass window was broken out. Robin cautiously approached the door and bent over to pick up an ashtray lying on the ground that seemed to be responsible for the broken window.

When she reached the door she peered through it expecting the worst. However, Strike was alone, sitting at his desk with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other. She was dumbfounded, but also couldn’t help the thrill that shot through her at the sight of him.

“What the bloody hell is going on,” she asked. “Why is the window broken?”

He didn’t even turn to look at her and said, “It’s nothing. Just leave it and I’ll clean it up later.”

Throwing an ashtray at a glass window was not nothing. Something was really wrong here and Robin had to find out what it was. She felt a frisson of dread. ... so she asked carefully, “What’s caused you to have a go at our door?”

“My door,” was the terse reply back.

Robin drew back stung. She’s been working so hard lately and her contract said they were partners. What had she done wrong? It’s not like she’d even seen him lately. This was not how she’d imagined number eight would go. Still, she would remain calm until she found out what was bothering him. 

“Ok, your door then. Same question still applies.”

He looked at her for a moment and Robin noticed that his eyes seemed to narrow as they took her in. Instead of answering though, he seemingly changed the subject.

“I’m sure he won’t come here, but have you considered how you're going to run surveillance for our clients when you eventually have someone following you. Might get complicated,” he said sarcastically.

Robin was shocked. Someone was or would be soon, following her? Not another stalker, she groaned. She remembered that during the Ripper case she had to fight every day to be able to work. Well she was not going to go through that again...

“What are you on about? Has someone sent threats again?”

He gave her a dirty look. “Just leave Robin. I’m not in the mood to talk about this tonight.”

Robin would not be deterred though. Something WAS really wrong here. If she was being followed he would have at least told her to get a cab and call him when she was home. There was more to this than he was saying. 

She implored, “Cormoran, please tell me what you mean.”

His eyes finally met hers and she was taken aback at the anger in them. His tone, when he began to speak, enforced her sudden realization that his current mood had everything to do with her. 

“I mean, the spouses of people cheating often hire detectives to prove infidelity. We know that better than anybody as it’s practically all we do. What happens when Matthew hires a different agency to get proof that you’re out having an affair. Will make a great story in The Sun, I’m sure.. Cheating detective outed by her own kind... of some other such rubbish. Great publicity for their agency, but shit for mine.”

Robin just stared at him. Surely he was not suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting. Of course he didn’t know she wasn’t married, so the whole point was moot. What wasn’t fucking moot is that whether she was married or not, or whether she was fucking half of London or not, was NONE of his fucking business. How dare he be angry at her. She was pissed now.

“You hypocritical arsehole. How dare you believe me capable of cheating. What kind of person do you think I am?”

He gave her a look of disdain. ‘I fucking saw you with my own eyes Robin. Might not have two legs, but my two fucking eyes see just fine. I think I know what a cheating spouse looks like by now,” he shouted at her.

“Well perfect... Some great detective you are. Aren’t you the one who is always telling me to get all the facts and not jump to hasty conclusions?” She argued back.

“What else could I need to know? It’s Friday night and you’re out, looking like that,” he gestured at her wildly, “rubbing yourself all over a man who was decidedly not your husband.”

“So that’s it then? You have all the answers and I don’t even merit the respect of an inquiry?” Her breathing was labored now. This could NOT be happening. 

Strike just scoffed scornfully and Robin’s heart sank at the hateful sound. Why did she agree to come back here? This was a mistake. It hurt too much to love him and he doesn’t trust or respect me at all, she thought. I’ve lived all that with Matthew once and I’m not going to do it again. Her anger spent, she started to tear up. 

“Oh I see, well if that’s your opinion of me, I don’t think this is going to work out. We can’t be partners if we can’t talk to each other and can’t trust one another.” Her throat clenched on the words. His hands were gripping his desk.

She continued, “Just so you can put your concerns about the agency to rest. You have to HAVE a husband in order to cheat on him and I haven’t got one. Legally I never had one... So sod off Strike.” She was crying in earnest now. She didn’t want to be here anymore, so she turned around to leave. She hadn’t even managed to reach the door before Strike came storming out of his office.

“What do you mean you haven’t got one? I was there, I bloody watched it happen.” He sounded confused now.

Robin did not turn to look at him, but said, “Yes well, he was a twat that deleted my voicemails, a controlling arsehole, and I didn’t love him anymore, so I annulled the marriage.”

He sounded quite unsure now, “Annulment.... you can’t have an annulment if you’ve consummated the marriage.”

Robin choked on a sob, “Well spotted, maybe you’re suited for detective work after all.” She reached for the door and started to open it. “But I did get an annulment so you can stop worrying about the agency now.”

He sounded angry again. “You went on your God Damn Honeymoon Robin. I know you did because I fucking called your house a week after the wedding and they said you’d gone away with him. Why the hell would you go on a Honeymoon if you weren’t going to stay married?”

Robin froze. She closed the door and slowly turned to look at Strike.

He looked horrified that he’d let that slip out. He wouldn’t look her directly in the eyes. He stood in the middle of the broken glass on the floor and his hands were balled into fists at his side. His pallor looked sickly and his eyes were rimmed red. He looked as wrecked as she felt. She stared at him for a moment letting hope seep into her for the first time since she’d heard that girl answer his phone. He just HAD to care for her if he had called and was this upset at seeing her with someone else. Being concerned about the impact to the agency was the flimsiest of excuses. She decided to take a chance. What did she have to lose at this point? She knew they wouldn’t be able to work together after this if things didn’t get resolved. So she might lose him either way. She chose hope and knew she had to tell him everything and let the chips fall where they may.

“I called you too you know... from the Honeymoon.”

Now Strike was the one who froze.

Robin walked over to the sofa and sat down heavily. She watched Strike carefully as she explained.

“After the ceremony, after you hugged me, I knew. I couldn't stay married to Matthew because I AM NOT a cheater and I wanted you so very much.” She heard his sharp intake of breathe. He stood still as a statue, eyes boring into her.

Our families were fighting in Masham and the press was staking out the flat in London. We went away to come to terms on separating, just to get away from the crazy. I never so much as kissed Matthew again after we hugged. About a week in, I couldn't stand it anymore, not talking to you. I called and some girl picked up your phone.” As she said these words he flinched violently and cursed, rubbing his hands roughly over his face.

“It was obvious what you had been up to. I was devastated. I figured that the hug could not have meant the same thing to you that it did to me if you were fucking some random girl a week later.” At this Robin finally looked away. She let the silence continue for a moment. Strike had still not spoken. He was just staring at her as if in a daze.

Robin looked back at him and continued, “No matter what though, I knew Matthew and I were through, so we came back and got the annulment. I had nowhere to go, so I stayed with Vanessa for a week. It was through Vanessa that I found my current flatmate. I’m guessing you must have just seen us out tonight. His name is Daniel. We just left the club a little bit ago. Me to come here and he left with a bloke he’d met that he fancied. We had just gone out to have a stress-free night and have fun. He was sick of seeing me wallow around the flat in depression because I never see you anymore.” 

Strike closed his eyes and grimaced as if he were in pain. He moved out of the glass and walked over to the desk in the outer office. He placed both hands flat on it’s surface and seemed to be struggling to breathe. Robin took that as a promising sign, so she went for it all.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you things were over with Matthew. I couldn’t bear to explain things to you right away. It was all too raw and you clearly didn’t want me. I needed to protect myself until I could try to get over you. It isn’t working though Cormoran, I miss you more now than I did after you fired me. You’ve been avoiding me since I got back and I hate it. Maybe I shouldn’t say it, but after all this, I need you to know that I love you. I think I was falling in love with you for a while, but I knew it for sure when you hugged me. I couldn’t stay married when I was in love with someone else. I’m sorry to put this on you if you don’t feel the same, but there it is... I love you Cormoran.”

As the sound of his name left her lips, Strike suddenly moved. He crossed the short distance to the couch in less than 3 strides. In one swift motion he pulled Robin up off the couch and caught her as she stumbled, surprised. One arm wrapped around her waist and the other cradled her face. His eyes were blazing as he said, “Thank Fuck for that,” and seized her lips with his own.


	7. Come Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first try at smut. You just can’t help it with these two. They walk such a fine line of denial and someday one of them is going to crack.... fingers crossed for sooner rather than later!

“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” ― Dr. Seuss

Chapter 7

The first touch of Strike’s lips to hers was shocking. Literally shocking, she thought as she felt electric tingles all over. 

Never, never in all her life had a kiss felt like this. How had she lived without it? She was already addicted and it had barely started. She was dizzy with relief that her gamble had paid off. He was kissing her and she was drowning in it... She groaned.

The moment her lips parted, Cormoran took advantage and was delving his tongue into her mouth. The hand that had been cradling her face, slid back and into her hair, holding her firmly against him. Robin eagerly met his tongue with her own, deepening their kiss as they devoured each other frantically.

Robin slid her arms up so that she could lock her hands behind his neck. She used this leverage to press the length of her body into his. When she felt her core press against his obvious arousal, her stomach clenched and she needed to be closer still. 

She started to rub herself against him until Strike broke the kiss with a gasp. He growled, “Fuckin hell Robin... I’m going to explode if you keep that up,” as he moved his mouth to start slowly kissing and sucking his way down her neck. This was no good, Robin thought. I need him inside me right now and I need him to lose control. 

Robin responded by grabbing his arms and guiding him until she could push him down onto the sofa. As he sat there staring up at her, his eyes widened comically large as Robin reached down to the hem of her dress and in one fluid motion pulled the whole thing off, up and over her head.

She looked incredible. Her skin was creamy and flushed, her hair was already in disarray from his hands, and she was wearing a skimpy blue lace bra and thong. Strike could clearly see her hardened nipples through the fabric. He watched as if hypnotized as Robin ran her own hands from the outside of her thighs, over her flat stomach and up to cup her own breasts. She moved her thumbs in a small circle around each simultaneously and then slowly pinched each nipple and tugged while squeezing her thighs together looking him straight in the eyes. When Strike dropped his head back onto the couch and groaned out, “Holy Shit,” she dropped to her knees in front of him. She slowly spread his legs until she could kneel between them. She dropped her head down and caressed his bulging erection with the side of her face, back and forth learning his length through the fabric of his pants. She then pressed a lingering kiss to where she could feel the tip was and gave a short moan. 

At that sound, Strike seemed to snap. His hands flew to his belt buckle and hastily undid it. Robin laughed joyfully and joined him in his efforts to rid himself of his clothes. She practically ripped his shirt open in her rush. She couldn't help it, but as soon as his magnificent cock was exposed, she had to taste it. He hadn’t even managed to remove his boxers completely and Robin’s mouth had already engulfed him. Before Strike could even register what had happened he felt his cock hit the back of her throat. “Fuck Robin, Jesus. That can wait. I need to be inside you right the fuck now. Do you have a condom?

Robin moaned around his cock, but released him. “No... IUD.... Please. Need you.... please.”

He reached down and tugged her up until she eagerly straddled him. He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, sliding it down her arms and throwing it blindly. He looked down at her panties. “Hope you didn’t like these.,” he muttered and then he gripped them in his hands and tore them off. He reached down to finally touch her and was relieved to find her soaking. He looked her in the eyes. “Are you sure? Please be sure.”

Robin lined him up and sank down as she whispered “yes” in his ear.

When they were fully joined, both froze for a moment staring at each other with a look of wonder. When Robin shifted slightly and experimentally tightened on him, Strike’s eyes darkened and he leaned forward to capture her lips in a ruthless kiss. Just like that they were frantic again. Strike placed both hands on her bum urging her faster as he thrust up into her. Robin used his broad shoulders as leverage to grind down harder and harder. She arched her back to urge her breasts closer to Strike’s face, which he eagerly took advantage of sucking on one nipple and then gently biting the other. It was fast, furious, and desperate as they each took out the pain and frustration of the last two months on each other. When he moved one hand forward to gently rub circles over Robin’s clit, it took less than a minute before a white hot explosion caused her to scream out loud.

“Fuck... Cormoran... yes... fuck... yes” 

Strike continued to thrust as he felt Robin seize and contract around him. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Thirty minutes ago had been the lowest point in his life. To have the highest come so quickly after, was giving him a feeling of whiplash. This was amazing, she was amazing. Please, please let me be able to keep this, he implored to the universe. He felt his own release coming and as he let it overwhelm him he just chanted her name over and over until he was spent.

They collapsed against each other in sweaty relief. Strike pulled out gently and Robin whined a bit at the loss. They remained pressed together though, neither one willing to be the first to move. Strike was trailing one hand lightly over any part of her he could reach as their breathing returned to normal. He felt Robin pressing soft kisses on his chest and neck and felt his heart swelling. He had something he needed to say though that couldn’t wait.

“Christ Robin. I’m sorry for being such a dickhead. That hug did mean as much to me as it apparently did to you. I was fucking wrecked when I found out you left. I drank so much that week I barely remember it. I know that doesn’t excuse what I did and I’m going to make it up to you somehow. You’re the only one that I want. I’m just trying to say I understand why you didn’t tell me about Matthew. I’m only sorry I made you feel like you had to protect yourself from me.”

He pushed her up gently until he could see her face. Her eyes were shining with tears, but she seemed to be glowing. He leaned in and kissed her gently. When he pulled back to look at her again, he smiled. I also need you to know that I love you Robin Ellacott. I’m completely and totally in love with you. When I saw you tonight, the thought that you were with someone else pushed me over the edge. I almost went to a very dark place. Thank God you came here tonight and saved me once again.”

Robin reached up with a hand and stroked the stubble on his cheek. His sheepish apology had melted her heart. They still had plenty to talk about and figure out, but that could wait until later. All that really mattered right now is that they loved each other. All this other drama had been caused by mix-ups and trying to hide that fact. Now that it was out in the universe, there would be no need for secrets.

“I thought this would never happen,” she said softly. “I’ve been completely miserable for months now and it sounds like you have too. Promise me, since it appears we are going to do this,” she gestured to their naked bodies with a grin, “that we will always be honest with each other from now on.”

“Yes, that’s what I want too, more than anything,” he said. He reached up and tucked her loose hair behind her ears. Then he slid his hands down until he was cupping her face. “God you’re so beautiful, I don’t deserve you.” He used his thumb to stroke her bottom lip reverently. 

Robin, keeping her eyes locked on his, parted her lips and captured his thumb in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it and sucked gently. 

She chuckled around his thumb as she could feel him harden instantly beneath her.

Strike’s mouth dropped open in shock. “You little minx. Payback is a bitch you know.”

“Looking forward to it.” Robin said with a wink, as she released his thumb. She placed both hands on his chest and ran her fingers through his chest hair. “Now do you want to go again in here or should we go find the bed that I know is quite close by?”

“I’m an old man, so a bed would be preferable,” he admitted ruefully. “Although I do have some delightful fantasies involving bending you over my desk, then there’s the one with you sitting on it, another with you laying spread open on it, and maybe one involving the window sill.... oh and several up against the wall.” 

Robin laughed out loud. “We can take those one at a time another day, because tonight it would literally involve walking through broken glass to accomplish.”

He looked embarrassed, “sorry about our door....”

“Oh so it’s OUR door again is it?” She teased.

“You know it is, don’t be contrary woman,” he chuckled. I’m a moody arsehole, but you already knew that about me. In my defense, I’d just had the worst shock of my life and was a little out of control.”

She leaned in and pressed her forehead against his. “I know, I’m sorry. I love you so much. I’ll never give you a reason to doubt that again.” Then she kissed him sweetly.

“Now please take me upstairs. I feel the need to have your cock in my mouth and you interrupted me before.”

Strike looked at her like she was the answer to every question he’d ever had in life. He pressed one quick, bruising kiss to her lips and said, “What are we waiting for then?”

Robin laughed and said, ... “nothing... anymore.”


End file.
